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SARAH STROUMSA For Lucy and Sari Nuseibeh

A MONG Avicenna's many works, his stories (qisas) have a very 26 special place, by virtue both of their form and of their content. While most of Avicenna's shorter compositions are devoted to specific problems, in the stories Avicenna endeavours to present his philosophy as a whole, though in a miniature version. But scholars disagree as to the nature of this philosophy: does it represent Aristotelian teaching2 or profound spiritual gnosis3? Scholars agree that the stories are written in a peculiar style, but disagree as to the philosophical significance of this fact. A.-M. Goichon, indeed, believes that it has none: For her, Avicenna wrote the stories as <<a poetic and profound game>> divert him during his imprisonment to at Faragan.4 For Dimitri Gutas the stories represent an example of the symbolic method as used by the Aristotelian philosopher; since the symbolic method is ((by its very nature... inferior to the demonstrative>), its main function must also be modest: ((to impart to the common people... that much of the knowledge as is necessary for their social and eschatological well-being)).5 Henri Corbin alone

I This paper has benefited from the comments of several friends and colleagues. In particular I wish to thank Rina Drory, Guy Stroumsa and Frank Stewart for their very helpful suggestions. 2 ((Un resume de la doctrine avicennienne de la connaissance>, Goichon, IHayy, p. 15; ((Theknowledge of the Aristotelian tradition as integrated, systematized and presented by Avicenna>>, Gutas, p. 311. On the degree of agreement between Avicenna's rational and his mystical/poetic writings, see also S. Nuseibeh, <Al-'aql al-Qudsi: Avicenna's Subjective Theory of Knowledge),, SI LXIX (1989), p. 39. 3 Corbin, p. 23. See also Gardet, <<humanisme)>, 825. p. 4 ((Un jeu poetique et profond occupant ses loisirs forces>>, Goichon, p. 14. 5 Gutas, p. 306.

Arabica, tome XXXIX,





granted the style of the stories profound philosophical significance, regarding them as (<visionary recitals>>.6 In the following pages I shall first discuss Avicenna's stories, their literary background and the use of stories by Muslim thinkers after Avicenna. I shall attempt to demonstrate that in this realm Avicenna was innovative and remained unique. I shall then examine the various scholarly attempts to interpret Avicenna' s stories. It is my intention to show that these stories do not fit the symbolic method normally used by the Aristotelian philosophers, but that the stories, style and all, must nevertheless be understood against the background of Avicenna's reading of Aristotelian philosophy. I. Avicenna's Stories Avicenna wrote three stories: a) Ijayy ibn Yaqzadn the tale of an encounter with a vigorous old is man who invites the writer (and the reader) to a fantastic journey through unknown realms in the cosmos, a journey which culminates in a vision of the King.7 b) The Storyof Saldmanand Absdl (the original Avicennian version of which is lost, and which is known to us only through Tiisi's Persian commentary)8 tells of King Salaman and his beloved brother Absal. Salaman's lustful wife schemes to gain the favours of Absal. Absal's persistent refusal to submit to her, despite all his sufferings, leads to the tragic end of the story. c) The Epistle of the Bird9 recounts the misfortunes and the emotions of a bird that is ensnared by hunters and held in captivity. With the help of other birds it awakens to the possibility of regaining its freedom and returns to its place of origin. Avicenna's three stories have several features in common. All three have a more or less dramatic plot and an apparently obvious message, and all are written in a flowery style which occasionally slides into rhymed prose10.

Corbin, especially p. 43. Corbin was translated into English by Willard R.

Trask (Avicenna the Visionary and Recital, London, 1960).

Mehren, pp. 1-22; Amin, pp. 43-53. Gutas, p. 305, n. 10. 9 Risdlat al-Tayr, Mehren, pp. 42-48. 10 Malachi (p. 317) and Levine (p. 584) correctly point out that, in contrast to Ibn Ezra's Hebrew version of IHayy ibn Yaq-zanor to the Hebrew version of The




1.1 The literarybackground Avicenna did not invent these stories from scratch: similar allegorical writings were known in the east before the rise of Islam. A version of The storyof Saldmanand Absdl was translated from Greek by Hunayn ibn Ishlq"l. The theme of The Epistle of the Bird is also not new: the Syriac Hymn of thePearl carries much the same message and has a similar plot"2. After the Arab conquests in the East, the Indians and Persians introduced the Arabs to animal tales, among them Kalfla wa-Dimna. These stories were meant to amuse while at the same time carrying a practical moral message. It seems that such edifying literature is also the source of the Epistle of the Animals, the twenty-first of the Epistles of the Pure Brethren'3.Unlike Kalfla wa-Dimna, this epistle does not offer moral or practical advice to the ruler, but rather a philosophico-theological message: The animate world is hierarchical, and just as human beings are, by nature, superior to animals, so are the prophets superior by nature to other humans. The Epistles of The Pure Brethren are generally admitted to be connected to the Ismacizjyya,although the precise nature of the connection is still debated by scholars'4. In any case, it seems that the Ismacilis favoured the use of such allegories, and in the Ismacll Kitdb al-guldmwal-mutacallimthe allegory develops into a full-fledged initiation story". Syriac allegories, Indian parables and Ismacili initiation stories were, then, widely known before Avicenna, and are probably the background to his stories. But with Avicenna the allegorical stories
Epistle of the Bird, Avicenna's stories are not in rhymed prose. But it is nevertheless evident that Avicenna's stories are written in a rather sophisticated poetic prose. 11 Qi,sat Saldmdn wa-Absdl, targamat Hunayn ibn Ishaq min al-Yundnfyya, in TisC Rasa'il, ed. Amin Hindih (Cairo, 1908); see Corbin, p. 229. 12 See P.-H. Poirier, L 'hymnede la Perle des Actes de Thomas (Louvain-La-Neuve, 1981). 13 Rasa-'il Ihwadn al-.afd wa-Hilldn al-Wafa (Egypt, 1928), II, pp. 173-198; Fr. Dietrici, Thier und Mensch vor dem Kiinig der Genien (Leipzig, 1881). See also the medieval Hebrew translation by Qalonimos ben Qalonimos, Iggeret bacalei hahayim, ed. Toporovski Uerusalem, 1956). 14 See S. M. Stern, <(New information about the authors of the Epistles of the Sincere Brethern, Islamic Studies, 4 (1964), III, pp. 405-428, rpr. Studies in Early IsmadclismUerusalem, 1983), pp. 155-176; Y. Marquet, La philosophiedes Ihwdn al,afid' (Algiers, 1973), p. 585 et passim. 15 See Hermann Landoldt, ((Suhrawardl's 'Tales of Initiation'>>, Journal of the American Oriental Society, 107 (1987), p. 482.




develop on an unprecedented scale. With him, the philosophical stories emerge as a fully fledged literary genre. Avicenna is innovative in his persistence in the use of this literary form, a persistence that bespeaks the importance he granted it. One can imagine a philosopher who writes a single story to pass away the time in a dreary prison16, or as an exercise for students"7, but it takes more motivation than boredom or a passing didactic impulse to write three different stories. Another indication of the seriousness with which Avicenna treated his own stories are his references to them in his other works18. 1.2 Later Philosophicalstories After Avicenna the genre spreads and becomes quite popular. Avicenna's stories were translated into Hebrew'9, and some of the translators elaborated on the initial Avicennian stories. A number of Muslim thinkers also wrote their own stories. A complete list of these works would carry us too far afield, but we can mention a few of the more famous items, for instance an Epistle of the Bird written by al-GazTll (d. 1111)20, a Iayy ibn Yaqza-n written by Ibn Tufayl (d. 1185)21 and another one written by Sihab al-Din al-Suhrawardi (d. 1191), who also wrote an Epistle of the Bird and some other allegorical stories22, and a story by Ibn al-Nafis (d. 1269) entitled al-Risdla al-kdmilayya l-si-ral-nabawjyya23. Ji
Goichon, note 4 above. Gutas, p. 305. 18 See the Risdlatal-Qadar,Mehren, pp. 5-6; Idrdt, p. 188-189. 19 The most famous adaptation is that of Abraham Ibn Ezra, the Igeret.Hay ben MIeqitz, Y. Levin (Tel Aviv, 1983). Other translatorstook more liberty; see Z. ed. Langermann, <<From Treasures of the Institute of Hebrew Manuscripts at the the National and University Library in Jerusalem: No. 42: David ben Shlomo ben CAqush's Epistle of cAllm ben Tallb,,, QiryatSefer60 (1985), pp. 326-327 (in Hebrew). For the Hebrew translations and adaptations of the Epistleof the Bird, see Malachi, pp. 325-341 (in Hebrew), and Levin. It is possible that Maimonides's GuideI 58 (Daldlatal-Hd'iri-n 93;23-26) are an echo of the last lines of Avicenna's Hayy. 20 Risdlat al-Tayr li-l-Gazdlz in Magmuicat Rasa-'il, ed. Muhyl 1-Din alKanimaskani (Misr, 1328 H.), pp. 535-544. 21 Ibn Tufayl, and see the English translation of L. E. Goodman, Ibn Tufayl's ibn IHayy Yaqzadn (New York, 1972). GuideII 17 (Daldlatal-Hd'irfn 205:20-206:15) is probably Maimonides' retort to Ibn Tufayl's parable. 22 Al-Gurba al-Garbiyya, Amin. pp. 135-138; Suhrawardi, II, pp. 273ff; Risdlat al-Tayr, Suhrawardi, pp. 62-71. 23 The Theologus Autodidactus Ibn al-Nafis, ed. and trans. M. Meyerhof and J. of Schacht (Oxford, 1968). It is difficult to share Schacht's view that this book is
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Most, if not all, of the stories written by these Muslim philosophers are, in fact, Avicenna's stories recycled. Avicenna's influence is already apparent in the titles of the works mentioned above. A closer examination of these works reveals the extent of this influence. To cite just two examples: Ibn Tufayl's book incorporates elements which are borrowed not only from Avicenna's IHayy but also from Saldmdn wa-Absdfl4, while the story of Suhrawardi Maqtuil, entitled The WesternExile, draws on both IHayy ibn Yaqzdnand The Epistle of theBird. But the influence is not limited to the literary components of the stories. Both Ibn Tufayl and Suhrawardi admit that their own stories were written as improvements on, or as retorts to, the philosophical ideas presented in Avicenna's story25. Yet in reading these later stories one gets a growing sense of the difference both in form and content between Avicenna's original stories and their later imitations. As regards form, even the Hebrew versions of Avicenna's own stories differ from the original: they are written in rhymed prose, and become more like a maqama26. The clearest difference in form is between Avicenna's stories and that of Ibn Tufayl (and hence also of Ibn al-Nafis, who follows him). Ibn Tufayl writes a longer story in prose, a novel. The figures of Hayy, the boy who grows up in total solitude, and of the people he meets on a neighbouring island, provide the literary, legendary frame to this novel. But the core of the novel describes Hayy's development until he achieves complete knowledge and illumination, and there is hardly any legendary or fictitious element here. Far from being metaphorical or allegorical, Ibn Tufayl's novel is an explicit, beautifully written, manual for the initiate27. As regards content, the plots and the symbols of the later compositions have some original elements compared to Avicenna's
<<perhapsthe most original work in Arabic literature)) (quoted in L. E. Goodman's review, Arch. Gesch. Philos, 51 (1969), pp. 219-222). 24 The names of Absal and Salaman as well as the motifs of spontaneous birth and the nursing gazelle. 25 Ibn Tufayl, p. 106; Suhrawardi, p. 135. 26 Malachi, p. 317. 27 S. S. Hawi, Islamic Naturalism and Mysticism. a philosophical study of Ibn Tufayl's IHayy bin Yaqza-n(Leiden, 1974) pp. 31-32. The difference between Avicenna's IHayy and Ibn Tufayl's was also noted by J. Wansbrough, The Sectarian Milieu (Oxford, 1978), p. 138.




stories. But the main difference is apparent in the intention of the writers. Ibn al-Nafis is interested in theological and juridical questions, not in philosophy proper. And as to Ibn Tufayl and Suhrawardi, they both declare that they wrote their compositions because of some dissatisfaction they felt with Avicenna's teaching in his stories. The consideration of these differences leads us to realize that, although Avicenna's followers seem to have liked the idea of a ((story)),what they wrote was very different from Avicenna's stories. If they really tried to follow him, they somehow missed his intentions. II. Scholarlyinterpretations Avicenna's Stories of What, then, was Avicenna's intention in using this genre? The answer to this question must refer to both the content of the stories and their form. Avicenna himself provides us with the key to the correct way to read his stories. In his Books of Remarksand Pointers, his last work on metaphysics28, Avicenna says:
Those who have divine knowledge vary in their rank and level, and this distinguishes them from others even as they are in their terrestrial life. It is as if they done their bodies like cloaks, which they later take off, shedding them (as they turn) towards the world of sainthood29. These people possess covert matters, as well as matters which are manifest by them. The ignorant disapprove of these matters, but those who know cherish them. We shall tell you of these matters (naqussuhd). So if, among things that you happen to hear, you come to hear the story (qissa) of Salaman and Absal, know that Salaman is a parable (matal) for yourself, whereas Absal is a parable for your rank in divine knowledge, if you deserve it. Now follow this hint (ramz)30, if you

Gohlman, p. 96. Compare Plotinus, Enn. IV.8.11-13; on the doffing metaphor, see F. Zimmerman, <<TheOrigins of the So-called Theology of Aristotle-, in J. Kraye et al., Pseudo-Aristotlein the Middle Ages: The Theologyand Other Texts (London, 1986), pp. 138-141. 30 Ramz-a meaningful wink, an indicative sign, a hint, and hence a clue that help to solve a riddle. Here the riddle is the philosophical story, and the hint (ramz) is the indicative sign (isdrd). Gutas' distinction between an image (matal) and an aggregate of symbols, an allegory (ramz; Gutas, p. 305), is unacceptable, since it identifies the hint with the story to which it relates. When the stories are referred to as ramz, this word again indicates their being a hint about something else, not their literary form (for example, Gohlman, p. 95: risdlat IHayyibn Yaqza-n ramzan ... 'an al-caql al-faccdl). 31 Idrdt, pp. 198-199.
28 29




Avicenna tells us quite plainly that the story (qissa) needs to be interpreted, and that grosso modothe interpretation must refer to the spiritual way of <<thosewho know)). But the search for a more precise understanding of the stories and the knowledge to which they lead have given rise to various interpretations. 11.1 Avicenna's disciples Avicenna's immediate disciples, Ibn Zayld and Guzgani, wrote meticulous commentaries of Ijayy32. A short example from such a commentary may not be superfluous:
As I was sojourning in my own country, I had the opportunity to make an outing with my companions to one of the gardens which surround this
valley: ... His own country is his body and the members thereof, which are the substrate of his faculties. By an outing he means an awakening to the awareness that beyond the life of the body and its members there is another, spiritual life. The gardens are matters far removed from the levels in which he was previously involved; by this he means the intelligibles33.

Obviously, Ibn Zayla took the stories to be a scrupulously coded message which must be decoded word by word. Tuisi, who was a more distant disciple of Avicenna, apparently shared this view, for his commentary on The Story of Saldman and Absdl follows the same pattern as Ibn Zayld's and Guzgani's. This approach has the advantage of offering an explanation of the details of the story, an explanation which is well grounded in Avicenna's own philosophy. The commentaries guide us safely through the intricacies of Avicenna's metaphysical views. But the style of the commentaries is the exact opposite of the one which characterizes Avicenna's stories. Dry, flat, and quite uninspiring, these commentaries highlight the peculiarities of Avicenna's style. In other words, a commentary that treats the Avicennian story as an allegory may provide sound explanation for its details. But in doing so it also robs the story of its specific character, a character to which Avicenna himself apparently attached special importance.


Corbin, pp. 62-88; Goichon, pp. 7-8.


Mehren, pp. 1-2.



II.2 Goichon's Interpretation The approach of Avicenna's disciples was adopted in modern on times by Goichon, who explained the text of IHayyibn Yaq.zan the basis of the commentaries of Avicenna's disciples and of his own philosophy34. She regards Avicenna' s stories as philosophical parables, intended to transmit the philosophical truth, or as riddles that await their deciphering. But she does not provide a serious explanation for Avicenna's predilection for the use of parables or of riddles. For Goichon, qissa can be rendered in French as a provided that we (<understand it in the simple sense)>35.In <<recit)), other words, the story is only a literary form, and as such it has no philosophical role. Its philosophical content can be-and in fact has just as well in other literary forms. been-conveyed 11.3 Gutas's Interpretation Goichon's assumption was lately taken up and developed by Gutas, who regards Avicenna's stories as an example of the use of the symbolic method by the philosophers. In order to understand Gutas's view, we must first briefly describe the main characteristics of this use. 11.4 The SymbolicMethod as Used by the Philosophers Thefaldsifa (i.e., Medieval Aristotelian philosophers) regarded the use of fables, enigmas, allegories and myths as a vital need of philosophy in human societies. <In the opinion of these medieval thinkers, the mythical mode of expression, when used by a philoso)36. pher, constituted a deliberate concealment of theoretical truth when used by the faldsifa themselves, this deliberate Sometimes, concealment was dictated by expediency: if non-philosophers are prematurely exposed to philosophical truth, they may regard it as a shocking heresy. Equivocal speech was thus meant to protect the philosopher from the accusation of holding heretical views. Perhaps even more important is the fact that the mythical mode of expres-

34 35 36

Goichon, especially, pp. 9 and 15-17.

Goichon, p. 15.
Pines, <Philosophic Sources)), p. LXXV.




sion was meant to protect not only the philosopher, but also the society in which he lived. Premature exposure to truth can be harmful. A person who is not properly prepared for the truth may be confused by it or misunderstand it, and the way he interprets this truth may not only be totally mistaken, but also dangerous. Human societies being what they are, i.e., composed mostly of non-philosophers, the responsible teacher must not divulge the truth to those incapable of understanding it. He must present ideas which are difficult to grasp in an enigmatic, veiled way, so that only the initiated will understand their true, deeper meaning. At the same time, this veiled discourse is also meant to guide the multitude gently and to bring them as close to the truth as they can get37. Thefaldsifa's attitude to the symbolic method led scholars like Gutas to assume that Avicenna's qisas must be interpreted in the framework of this attitude. According to this view, the stories would have two main functions: to teach the common people as much as they need to know, and to conceal from them that part of the same knowledge that might cause damage to them and to society38. According to this view, ((the only use the allegorical method may have for superior minds is to invite them to 'philosophical research', to the demonstrative method))39. This interpretation, however, turns out to be problematic. To begin with, if we assume that Avicenna's stories are an example of thefaldsifa's use of the allegorical method, we must add that they are an exceptional example of this use. Aristotelian philosophers prior to Avicenna did not compose stories: They usually applied the Platonic view of the role of the symbolic method to allegorical interOn the Platonic origins of the Faldsifa's political theory, see Lerner and 37 Mahdi, pp. 16-17. On the question of whether Aristotle's Politics was ever translated into Arabic, see S. Pines, ((Aristotle'sPoliticsin Arabic Philosophy-, Israel Oriental Studies,V. (1975), pp. 150-160, rpr. The Collected Worksof Shlomo Pines:Studies ArabicVersions Greek in of TextsandMedieval Science Uerusalem, 1986), pp. 146-156; and see now R. Brague, <Note sur la traduction arabe de la 'politique', derechef, qu'elle n'existe pas-, to appear. For examples of the integration of the Platonic theory into Avicenna's Aristotelianism, see Avicenna's Risdlaft
itbdt al-nubuwwdt wa-ta'wfl rumuizihim,in TisC rasad'il l-hikma wa'l-tabitfiyydt(Conft

stantinople, 1297 H.), p. 85 (translated to English by M. E. Marmura, <<On the Proof of Prophecies and the interpretation of the prophets symbols and metaphors>>, Lerner and Mahdi, p. 1, and to French by Gardet, pp. 140-141, in n. 7). 38 Gutas, pp. 306-307.

Gutas, p. 302.




pretation of the Scriptures. Their allegorical compositions are few, and consist mostly of short parables within the framework of their apodictic writings40. There is, indeed, reason to believe that Avicenna's stories do not fit the model of thefaldsifa's use of the symbolic method at all. The philosophers often insist on the need to hide from the multitude the very fact that something is being hidden from them. To discover that a text is symbolic is already to go half way to discovering its content4t. The fact that something is a parable should therefore be pointed out only to those people who have been properly prepared and are considered worthy candidates for philosophic knowledge. Avicenna, for instance, says:
Nor is it proper for any man to reveal that he possesses knowledge that he is hiding from the vulgar. Indeed, he must not permit any reference to this

Although, according to Avicenna,

It is not wrong for his speech to contain hints and pointers (rumuizwa-iadrdt) which urge those who are naturally predisposed to engage in philosophical research43 to do so.

The prohibition on divulging both the meaning of an esoteric text and the fact that it is esoteric was usually taken very seriously by both the philosophers and their followers. Let us examine Maimonides' Guide thePerplexed, classical case of a philosopher's of a <<art writing)). This book was meant by its author to be a of discourse (maqdla) that, by using ambiguous or contradictory sentences, would keep the truth hidden from those who are not fit to hear it. Maimonides beseeched the philosopherswho attained the truth from this book not to disclose it. His followers invested much


On allegorical interpretation and allegorical composition,

see J. Whitman,

Allegory-The Dynamicsof an Ancientand MedievalTechnique (Cambridge, Mass.,

1987), pp. 3-13. 41 See, for instance, Daldlat al-IHdr'i-n, introduction, p. 9:21-25 (= Guide, p. 14): ,,In some matters it will suffice you to gather from my remarks that a given story is a parable, even if we explain nothing more; for once you know it is a parable, it will immediately become clear to you what it is a parable of. My remarking that it is a parable will be like someone's removing a screen from between the eye and a visible thing)). 42 Avicenna, Healing, Metaphysics X, translated by M. E. Marmura, in Lerner and Mahdi, p. 100. See also Gutas, p. 307. 43 Ildhzydt, II, 443 (French translation in Anawati, II, p. 177).




and they effort in the attempt to discover ((the secret of the Guide)>, wrote about their findings. But they often disagree in their interpretation; and even the most outspoken of them themselves use ambiguous language, or apologize profusely for disregarding Maimonides' demand that the truth be kept secret44. If we return now to Avicenna's stories, we may note (a) that the fact that Avicenna calls attention to the parabolic nature of The Story and of Saldma-n Absdl shows that this story (and presumably also the other stories) is not intended for the vulgar. As noted above, the Platonic view of mythical discourse does not allow the masses to know that something is being hidden from them. And indeed, Avicenna tells us that the audience for which this story is intended are those who can hope for the rank of divine knowledge. b) The remarkable agreement of the commentaries raises serious questions concerning Avicenna's talent as a riddle-teller: if he intended the stories to be veiled discourses, he did not succeed very well. And (c), if the master intended his discourse to be veiled, his students seem to have had surprisingly little respect for his intentions, for they disclose the meaning of the stories in a plain, matter-of-fact manner, without any scruples. Maimonides' Guide and its commentaries fit the description presented above of (<mythical discourse)> as used by Aristotelian philosophers. The commentaries on Avicenna enable us to realize that his stories do not fit this description. The stories do not hide anything, nor do they disclose a secret, unknown teaching. They repeat a teaching which, at a certain philosophical level, is well-known. 11.5 Corbin's Interpretation The shortcomings of the commentator's approach45 were noted already by Corbin, and in his masterly study of the stories he endeavoured to avoid these shortcomings. Like the other commen44 The translator of the Guide, Samuel Ibn Tibbon, was often criticized for being <<a gossip who cannot keep a secret)> (holeh rah4l u-megalesod), that is to say, for being indiscreet and for breaking the secrecy imposed by Maimonides; see A. Ravitsky, ,The Secret Teachings of the Guide: The Commentators in his Time and in Ours>>, Jerusalem Studies in Jewish Thought5 (1986), p. 36 (in Hebrew); Also Idem, <Samuel Ibn Tibbon and the Esoteric Character of the Guide of the Perplexed>, AJS review 6 (1981), p. 91, n. 16. 45 Which is basically the approach adopted also by Goichon and Gutas.




tators, Corbin's point of departure in his interpretation is Avicenna's own philosophy, and he assumes that the details of the stories are metaphors that need to be interpreted. But he also assumes that the story as a whole has a specific philosophical meaning46. Avicenna designates the stories as qisas, a word the root of which is qs. A verb with the same root means, among other things, ((to follow in the footsteps of somebody>). For Corbin, the choice of this term is of capital importance. According to him, the qissa is indeed a ((re-cital)), in which the reader is called upon to situate himself in the place of the hero and re-live his experiences47. While avoiding the difficulties we noted above in the disciples' commentaries, Corbin's approach is problematic in other ways. It is not only that, in his enthusiasm for the spiritual understanding, Corbin is sometimes carried away to the point of rewriting the Avicennian text48, but also that his interpretation of the stories as a whole comprises a major difficulty. Corbin seeks to find in the stories a spiritual Avicenna, different from Avicenna the logician and Avicenna the Peripatetic philosopher49. According to Corbin, it is the Spiritual Avicenna who wrote the ((recitals)). Consequently Corbin sees no essential difference between Avicenna's stories and those written by SuhrawardI, Sayh al-Hrdq. One could almost say that Corbin reads Avicenna's stories as a commentary on Suhraward150. But, as noted above Suhrawardi himself did not
46 Corbin, p. 42: <<Les symbole de nos Recits n'ont pas tout a fait la meme fonction que le mythe platonicien. La reduction du meme au meme est l'cuvre poursuivie en general par les commentaires trZes rationnels de ces Recits, mais elles est inattentive 'a la transmutation dont la consequence est qu'au lieu de chercher un secret dans ou sous le texte, il faut considerer ce texte lui-meme comme le secret ... >. 47 Corbin, p. 43: "Ce n'est pas une histoire arrivee 'a d'autres, mais la sienne propre, son propre <roman spirituel-, si l'on veut, mais personnellementvecu:.. C'est pourquoi nous n'avons retenu les designations ni d'alle'gories mystiques, ni d'histoires ou contes philosophiques, mais celle de Recits, et de Recits visionnaires ou Recits d'initiationso. See also Levin, ((Gazelle)), pp. 582-583. 48 By way of an example we may mention Avicenna's description of the ((letdown experience)> which inevitably follows the illumination. Avicenna says that those who have seen the King, return reluctantly (wa-hum mukrahuin; Amin, p. 53; Mehren, p. 21), which Corbin renders as (<combles de dons mystiques> (Corbin, p. 165). 49 Gutas pertinently describes this search as Corbin's -(obsession with what he perceived to be the allegedly ineffable Iranian spirituality> (Gutas, p. 299, n. 2). 50 In fact, Corbin's initial and main interest was in the stories of Suhrawardi, and his purpose in his study of Avicenna's stories was to see ((quelle part d'inspiration avicennienne recelait, voire attestait explicitement, le cycle des Recits sohravardiens>. Corbin, p. 14.




share this view, for he believed that Avicenna's stories needed some rewriting. The differences between the stories written by Avicenna and those written, on the one hand, by Irdqi- thinkers such as Suhrawardi, and on the other hand, by such philosophers as Ibn Tufayl, cannot be ignored. Indeed, Avicenna is not only the first, but also the only Aristotelianphilosopher to devote such a sustained effort to the writing of philosophical stories51. In order better to understand the peculiarity of Avicenna's stories, we must now turn to another literary genre in the use of which Avicenna is somewhat unusual. III. Avicenna's poetry and the Poetics Among the Aristotelian philosophers, Avicenna's attitude to poetry is as peculiar as the importance he gives to stories. Al-FMrabi and Averroes saw poetry as a means of education to be used only in the most limited fashion52. A Jewish philosopher like Maimonides, who had no attachment to the Arab poetical tradition, felt free to express his disdain for poetry in a more pronounced way53. Muslim philosophers had to accept poetry, because it was part of their culture and could hardly be avoided. But they did so with reluctance, and it is hard to imagine al-Farbli, Ibn Bagga or Averroes writing true poetry54.
51 Avicenna is <.theonly eminent philosopher considered as belonging to the Aristotelian school with regard to whom Maimonides, in his letter to Ibn Tibbon, expresses some reservations and even some mistrust>> (Pines, Introduction to the Guide,p. xciii). It is possible that Maimonides' ambivalent attitude to parables, which he clearly expresses when speaking of Plato (see A. Marx, ((Texts by and about Maimonides>>,JQR XXV, 1935, p. 380), contributed also to his reluctance to recommend the works of Avicenna. This despite the fact that Maimonides himself uses parables relatively often, for example Daldlatal-IHd'irin, III, 51, p. 454-455 (Guide,p. 618-619). 52 Ibn Rusd, Talhis kitdb arist-tdzs Jif 1-s4ir, in Badawi, p. 205: 17-21. 53 Moses b. Maimon, Responsa, ed. J. Blau (Jerusalem, 1960), vol., II, pp. 397-

398; Idem, Introduction to Pereq Heleq, Commentaryon the Mishna, ed. J. Qafih al-Carab mitla kutub (Jerusalem, 1964), Neziqin, p. 210 (hddihi l-kutub 1-mawgiidaCinda al-tawa-rih wa-siyar al-mulu-kwa-ansdb al-arab wa-kutub al-agdni wa-nahwiha min alkutub allati ld 'ilma fiha- wa-ld fd'ida g'ismdnzyya taldf al-zama-n illd faqat).
54 For a list of the works in verse written by Averroes (which are mostly of the mnemonic or didactic kind), see Salvador Gomez Nogales, <Bibliografiasobre las obras de Averroes,,, in J. Jolivet, ed., Multiple Averroe-s (Paris, 1978), pp. 386-387. The few lines of verse with which Maimonides introduces his Commentary the on Mishna can hardly count as a poem or as an independent pzyyut.




But Avicenna did. His Ode of the Soul55 is, in many respects, a miniature version of the Epistle of the Birdi6. It recounts the fall of the soul, its longing to return to its heavenly abode, and its return. This gnostic myth is presented in rhymed hemistichs, and is labeled Avicenna's stories are not qasa'id, and are never so des((a qasfda>>. cribed. Yet they too are clearly poetic creations57. Unlike the Ode, the stories are not classical poems. But they are also not didactic compositions, like Avicenna's Poem on Medicine. To what poetic genre do the qisas belong? III1. The Faldsifa and the Poetics The clue to this puzzle may be found in Avicenna's commentary on Aristotle's Poetics. The Poeticswas translated along with the other books of Aristotle, and, following the Alexandrian Commentators, was considered to be part of the Organon58. As such, it attracted the same serious attention that thefaldsifa accorded to Aristotle's works on logic. But since the translation movement did not include belles lettres, the faldsifa were not familiar with the kind of literature dealt with in the Poetics. They read about tragedies, comedies and dramas without ever having read anything of Aeschylus or of Homer59. The meaning of the Poetics therefore remained a mystery to them60.
Sarh qasfdatIbn sfnaft l-nafs, ed. Zayn al-Din al-Manawi (Cairo, 1955), translated into French by H. Masse, Revuedu Caire,June 1951, p. 7. 56 The similarity was noted by Goichon, p. 15. 57 As noted by Goichon, p. 15, and see also above, note 3. On the other hand,
see Henri Jahier and Abdelkader Noureddine, stories ... poetry has only a limited roleo.

DFwan Ibn Sina: Anthologie de textes

poetiques attribue'sAvicenne, a (Algiers, 1960), pp. 10, 15, according to whom <in the R. Walzer, ((Zur Traditionsgeschichte der aristotelischen Poetik,,, Studi
Italiani de Filologica Classica N.S. 11 (1934), pp. 5-14, rpr. Idem, Greekinto Arabic,

Oxford, 1962, pp. 129-136; Dahiyat, p. 12. 59 Gardet, "Humanisme,,, p. 815; G. Wiet, "<Les traducteurs arabes de la poesie
grecque,,, Milanges Rene6Mouterde ( = Melanges de l'Universite SaintJoseph 38, 1962), II

pp. 361-368; J. Kraemer, <<Arabische Homerverse)),ZDMG 106 (1956), pp. 259. Hiunaynibn Ishaq was an exception to the rule, in that he seems to have read some Homer (G. Strohmaier, -(Homer in Bagdad,), Byzantinoslavica 1980, pp. 19641, 200). But the scope of his knowledge in this domain seems to have been rather limited. Note the marked discrepancy between his ability to reconstruct the medical works of Galen and his bewilderment concerning a faulty text by Aristophanes (M. Meyerhof, (<Laversion arabe d'un Traite perdu de Galien>, Byzantion 1926, pp. 413-442, especially pp. 434-435). 3, 60 As noted, for example, Dahiyat, p. 28, and A. Trabulsi, La critique poetique des Arabes(Damascus, 1956), pp. 74-76. Al-Sirafi's criticism of the philosophers




The Arab philosopherswere to some extent aware of the fact that they lacked the tools to understand the Poetics,and they even admitted it. But they refused to exclude it from their teaching. Having to explain what they did not understand, they turned to what they did know. Al-FarabI circumvented the difficulty by summing up the intentions of Aristotle, rather than offering a detailed commentary61.Averroes substituted the terminology and the verses of the Arabic poetry he knew for the terms and verses of the Greek poetry which were unclear to him62. And Abuf I-Barakat alBagdadi, a Jewish convert to Islam, assumed that the difference between Greek and Arabic poetry could be explained in the same way as the difference between the latter and Biblical poetry63. Avicenna was the first Arab philosopher whose work on the Poeticsis a commentary in the strict sense of the word64. That Avicenna was conscious of the difference between Arabic and Greek poetry is clear from several remarks in his commentary on Aristotles' Poetics65.It is also clear that he was uneasy with the need to comment on a work which is based on the unfamiliar Greek poetry, and his apologetic tone is obvious when he says:
We shall now turn to record as much of the First Teaching (i.e., the Aristotelian text) as we have been able to understand. For what it contains relates mostly to poems and descriptions which were peculiar to them (i.e., to Greeks)66.

Unlike Averroes, Avicenna rarely resorted to substituting Arabic poetical constructions for the Greek ones67. I suggest that
(wa-taddacrna zcr wa-ld tacrifzinahu, al-s Abiu Hayyan al-Tawhidi, Al-imtdc wa-lmu'dnasa,ed. A. Amin and A. Al-Zayn, I, p. 123:2) may also be an allusion to the philosophers' awkward situation as regards the Poetics. 61 Badawi, pp.149-158; A. J. Arberry, (Farabl's Canons of Poetry,,, RSO 17 (1938), pp. 266-278; Dahiyat, p. 17-18, 25-27. 62 Talhjs kitdb Arist7tdlis f l-4icr,Badawi, pp. 201-250; and see Vincente Cantarino, (Averroes on Poetry-, in Gidhari L. Tikku, ed., Islam and its Cultural Studies Honorof Gustave vonGrunebaum in E. Divergence: (Urbana, Chicago and London, 1971), pp. 10-26. 63 See S. Pines, ((Studies in Abu-l'Barakat al-Baghdadi's Poetics and Metaphysics-, ScriptaHierosolymitana pp. 268-274, rpr. The Collected VI, Works of ShlomoPines, vol. 1: Studiesin Abii'l-Barakdt al-Baghdddi Physics and Metaphysics (Jerusalem 1979), pp. 129-135. 64 Fannal-siCr kitdb min al-sifd', Badawi, pp. 167-198; and see Heinrichs, p. 155. 65 Badawi, pp. 165, 167. See also Dahiyat, p. 12. 66 Badawi, p. 167. 67 See F. Gabrieli, ((Esteticae poesia araba nell'interpretazione della poetica aristotelica presso Avicenna e Averroes>, RSO XII (1929/30), pp. 291-331; Dahiyat, p. 30.




Avicenna's discomfort in this awkward situation is not only reflected in his commentary of Aristotle. It also influenced his own creative writings, foremost among which are the stories. I think it can be shown that in writing his stories Avicenna applied principles derived from the Poetics, and that he aimed at a literary form that would have the effect of the literature described by Aristotle. III.2 Qissa and the Poetics According to Aristotle, <<Epic poetry and Tragedy, as also Comedy, Dithyrambic poetry, and most flute playing and lyre-playing, are all, viewed as a whole, modes of imitation>)68. Imitation (mimesis) is the characteristic technique of poetry. Among the various kinds of poetry, the one most relevant to our study is tragedy. For Aristotle
Tragedy ... is the imitation (mimesis) of an action that is serious, complete, and of certain magnitude; in language embellished with each kind of artistic ornament ... in the form of action, not of narrative; through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation (catharsis) of these emotions69.

Aristotle lists six components of tragedy which together contribute to the achievement of this ((catharsis)). The six components are not all equally important.
The most important of all is the structure of the incidents ... hence the incidents and the Plot (mythos) that are the end of the tragedy; ... The Plot, then, is the first principle, and, as it were, the soul of the tragedy70.

And again:
let us now discuss the proper structure of the Plot, since this is the most important thing in Tragedy71.

It is precisely this essential feature-the plot, the drama (((form of action)))- that captured Avicenna's attention. The plot (qissa or hurdfa in the translation used by Avicenna72) is one of the com68 69

Poetics1447:15. Poetics,VI, 2-3, 1449b 25-30.

Poetics, VI, 9-15, 1450a 15-40. Poetics, VII, 1, 1450b 22. 72 Avicenna probably used the version prepared by Yahya ibn 'AdI. It is unclear whether this version was a new translation (F. E. Peters, AristotelesArabus, Leiden, 1968, pp. 23-28; Dahiyat, p. 7) or only a corrected version of Abui Bisr Matta's translation (Heinrichs, p. 156). On the translation(s) of the Poetics into Arabic, see Badawi, pp. 7-9, Heinrichs, pp. 105-127, and also D. Margoliouth,




ponents essential in producing mimesis. For the Arab philosophers hurdfa was usually a pejorative term: Plato's <<oldwives tales)) became for the Arab Aristotelians a standard expression of scorn73. But in the translation of the Poetics used by Avicenna the word hurdfais used in the same sense as qissa and refers to an element that the poet must include in his work in order to achieve the desired effect of poetry. The plot or the story of the poetic composition is essential for the role of poetry in activating the imagination. According to Avicenna, <the logician is interested in poetry only in so far as it activates the imagination>>74,and it is the imagination which produces the effect of mimesis. Speaking of the mimetic effect of poetry, Avicenna says:
People respond to imagination (tabyil more easily than to verification (tasdcq) ... because truth that is already known is like old merchandise, which has no freshness to it; and one cannot relate to truth that is as yet unknown. So if a true saying is phrased in an unusual way, and is associated with something that is agreeable to the soul, then it may impart both verification and imagination75.

Avicenna speaks here of ((people)>(al-nas), which could be taken to mean the common people. If this were the case, Avicenna's attitude to poetry would agree both with the Aristotelian (i.e. Platonic) attitude to mythical discourse and with the faldsifa's attitude to poetry. But Avicenna also speaks here of <(verification>)(tasdfq)76 and imagination (tajyii) as interchangeable means to the same end. In other words, alongside the demonstrative way, Avicenna offers

Analecta OrientaliaAristotelica (London,

1887); Tkatsch, Die arabischerUbersetzungen

derPoetik (Vienna, 1928); S. Afnan, ((TheCommentary of Avicenna on Aristotle's Poetics-, JRAS (1947), pp. 188-191. 73 See Plato, Politea,II, 376-379. And see, for example, the evaluation of the belief in the hereafter as hurafdt al-ag)iz, attributed to al-Farabi in Ibn Tufayl, p. 1 2; Avicenna, Itbdt,p. 82 (= Lerner and Mahdi, p. 113); and also Abui Bisr in a passage of his commentary on Aristotles' Metaphysics, quoted in PseudoMagri.t's Gdyat al-haktm,ed. H. Ritter (Leipzig and Berlin, 1933), p. 283. Pines (((A Tenth Century Philosophical correspondence),, Proceedings the American of
AcademyforJewish Research24, 1955, p. 119, n. 71) explains the word hurdfain this

last passage as ((storieswhich are untrue and absurd-. 74 Badawi, p. 167.

75 76

Badawi,p. 162.

On this key term in Aristotelian epistemology, see H. A. Wolfson, ((TheTerms Taydfq and Tasawwur Arabic Philosophy and their Greek, Latin and Hebrew in Equivalents>), MW 5 (1933), pp. 144 ff.




a complementary way of learning, a way which is valid also for the philosopher. That the philosopher may sometimes benefit from artistic, nondemonstrative method was admitted even by the strictestfaldssifa. Paradoxically, this admission can be clearly seen in Maimonides' of rej,ection such artistic activities, where he says:
All songs and rythmical compositions are forbidden.... We must not think of the exceptional individual, so rarely found, in whom such things may cause concentration and quick affection (that may help him) to grasp the intelligibles..., for religious laws take into consideration only that which is found in the majority of cases77.

Maimonides considers songs and music as harmful for the multitude, but even he does not deny that they may have a beneficial effect on the intellectual activity of the elite. Avicenna, on the other hand, considered the use of artistic methods as legitimate for the elite, and in this he believed himself to be following Aristotle faithfully. In the process of bringing about the desired beneficial effect the poetic plot has a major role for Avicenna. He does not regard the qissa as just a lengthy matal or allegory. Like the plot in the Philosopher's view of the Greek tragedies, the qissa is meant to lead the listener along a way that in theory is familiar to him, but that in practice may be hard to follow when guided by reflection alone. III.3 Avicenna's qissa Following Aristotle, Avicenna makes it quite clear that for him the qissa, philosophy and poetry are closely linked. But one may ask: how do we know that in writing his own qisas Avicenna envisaged the same qis,a that he describes in the commentary to Aristotle's Poetics? Avicenna never calls his qisa,s<<poetry>> (si'r); he could not have done so, since the term was reserved in Arabic for another well established genre. Nor does he ever point to a connection between his stories and Aristotle's Poetics; he could not claim that his stories correspond exactly to the kind of literature described by Aristotle, because in the Poetics the plot (qissa) is only one of several components that make up poetry. Avicenna separeted this component and developed it in a way that was his own, not Aristotle's.

Responsa,II, pp. 398-399.



Nevertheless, it can be shown that in Avicenna's mind the Poetics was associated with ((stories)), and that while writing his commentary on Aristotle's Poetics, he was thinking of ((stories)> a separate as genre. The fact that he does so is evident from an analysis of Avicenna's attempts to distinguish between poetry and poetry-like writings. Poetry for Avicenna is characterized by the combination of its form (i.e., it rhymes and has meter), its contents (things which really are, not imaginary reality) and its role (to allow the reader to experience truths which he may be slow to experience or incapable of experiencing if they are presented in an apodictic way). Poetry-like writings have some poetic features, but since their content is not poetic, they fall short of being poetry. This distinction is already to be found in Aristotle, who says:
... it is not the function of the poet to relate what has happened, but what is possible according to the law of probability or may happen-what necessity. The poet and the historian differ not by writing in verse or in prose. The work of Herodotus might be put into verse, and it would still be a species of history, with meter no less than without it. The true difference is that one related what has happened, the other what may happen78.

Avicenna took the things that ((are possible according the law of ... necessity)) to be what relates to the world of intelligibles rather than to the world of phenomena. This is the subject matter of poetry, whereas poetry-like writings tell of things past. As an example of poetry-like writing we might have expected Avicenna to substitute for the work of Herodotus some Arabic work of history79. We might also have expected him, when he discusses things that look like poetry, to offer as examples some Arabic verse that does not aim at such lofty experiences as the poetry described by Aristotle. But instead of choosing something from the rich historical and poetical literature of the Arabs, Avicenna refers to Kalila wa-Dimna. This, he says, is not poetry, and would not become poetry even if put into verse. His complex discussion of this point, which is of capital importance for our argument, deserves to be quoted at length.
Know that the kind of imitation which appears in parables and stories (alanittdlwa'l-qisas80) does not belong to poetry in any way.
79 80

Poetics IX, 1-3, 1451a 36-1451b 5.

See note 80 below.

Dahiyat, p. 9, reads qasas and translates accordingly: <.historical narratives>. His understandings is perhaps influenced by the example of Herodotus in Aristotle's text. But here as throughout Avicenna's commentary of the Poetics, the




This sentence sets out the theme of the whole of what follows in this are profoundly difquotation, which is that <<parablesand stories>> ferent in nature from poetry. Avicenna sees mimesis(muhdkdt)as the quintessential feature of poetry, and indeed refers by metonomy to poetry as muidkdydt(see below). It is evident from this passage that he believed that there was a different (apparently inferior) type of mimesis that appeared in <parables and stories)> (and perhaps in other non-poetic genres). He does not say anything about this kind of mimesis, and it was apparently of little importance to him.
Poetry refers only to matters the existence of which is possible, or to that which must exist and thus enters the category of the necessary. Stories would be like poetry if the difference between myths (hurdfdt) and imitations (muhdkdydt)were simply that the latter are in verse and the former are not81. But this is not so.

Hurdfa here is not a synonym of qissa in the sense of plot (contrast p. 198 above). It is used rather as an equivalent of the phrase (<parables and stories>>, and as such is opposed to poetic mimesis (wheras hurdfain its other sense is an essential part of poetry). By ((parables and stories>> Avicenna does not mean two distinct genres, and he now goes on to give us an example of a hurdfa, a parable or a story.
Speech needs be directed either towards something that exists or towards something that does not exist. Consider two different books of the Greeks, both written in verse82, but one containing poetry, the other resembling Kaldla wa-Dimna and not containing poetry. The difference between these two books is not only that one is in verse and the other is not83. If the one that resembles Kaldla wa-Dimna were written in prose, it would not be deficient and would not lose its effect. It would in fact have its desired effect, that is, to communicate opinions that are the result of experience84 of situations which relate to things lacking actual existence. The reason [that the book that resembles Kaldla wa-Dimna does not need to be in verse] is that the purpose

synonym of matal and of hurdfa is qissa, pl. qisas. Kalfla wa-Dimna, which appears in the following lines, can hardly be characterized as a historical account, despite its ((historical anecdotes>) refered to by Dahiyat (p. 99, n. 3). 81 Literally: <<If the difference ... were only in metre (wazn)>. 82 This sentence seems to suggest that Avicenna thought that Herodotus wrote in verse. 83 Avicenna appears to have become a bit muddled in his attempt to explain Aristotle's text by substituting the familiar Kalila wa-Dimna (which is in prose) for the unfamiliar example given by Aristotle (presumably Herodotus), which Avicenna has just described as written in verse. 84 Literally: ((the results and the acquired experience)) (natd'ig wa-tagdrib), but compare two lines below: nattgat al-tagrtba.




of poetry is only to activate the imagination, not to impart opinions. If a work is in prose, it is less effective in activating the imagination than if it is in verse. The purpose of stories is to impart knowledge of the results of experience, and to do this one does not really need verse. So one of our two [genres, i.e., poetry] discusses that which existed and will exist, whereas the other (i.e., stories) discusses that whose existence is in speech alone. Poetry is therefore more like philosophy than the other genre, for it captures the existent better than the other genre and is closer than it to universal judgment.85

In this passage, Avicenna's basic concern is to make the distinction between poetry and non-poetry. He knows that it will be natural for his reader to assume that all verse is poetry, and that before going any further he must explain that this is not so. Now the obvious or way of doing this would be to take as an example Arabic qasay'id the like, and to explain why they are only verse, not true poetry in the Aristotelian sense. But Avicenna does not do this: he starts by and only makes the verse/poetry distinction by writing about stories, asking the reader to imagine that the story has been versified. The most obvious way to explain why Avicenna drags stories into an exposition in which they do not naturally appear is that he conin nects stories (qisasor hurdfdt) a special way with the poetry/nonpoetry distinction, and this in turn can only be because of the realization, which was so important for him, of the crucial role of the plot (qissaor hurdfa) the poetry described by Aristotle. in In later discussions of poetry in Arabic the reference to KalflawaDimna was used as a matter of course86, often without understanding the original Avicennian role of this example. AlQartaganni (d. 1285) even mentions it as the kind of fable which was typical of Greek poetry87.Avicenna was the first to introduce this example into the discussion, and it makes sense only in the context of his understanding of the poetic and philosophic role of qissa. Avicenna's unexpected reference to-and rejection of-Kalfla wa-Dimna-suggests that while commenting on the Poetics, Avicenna was reflecting on qisas(stories) which, unlike the Indian

85 Al-Sifd', p. 54; Badawi, p. 183. Parts of this text are translated in Dahiyat, pp. 99-100 (into English) and Heinrichs, p. 181 (into German). 86 For example by Averroes, Badawi, p. 214; and by the Jewish author Joseph Ibn CAqnin, in his commentary on the Song of Songs, Inki.fdf al-Asrar wa-Zuhukr alAnwdr, ed. A. S. Halkin (Jerusalem, 1964), p. 2. 87 Abui 1-Hasan Hazim al-Qartaganni.", Minhda al-bulaga' wa-sira-gal-udaba'), ed. Ibn al-Hoga (Beirut, 1981), p. 68-69.



fables, do meet the Aristotelian criteria. And as such stories did not exist in Arabic literature, Avicenna had to write them himself. As required by Aristotle, Avicenna's stories are <<complete in themselves>>. Their language is enjoyable, and they describe a sequence of events. These events are not in narrative but in a dramatic form (although Avicenna's understanding of drama is and closer to rhetoric88.) The Storyof Saldma-n Absdl and The Epistle of the Bird record incidents which arouse pity and fear. And most important of all, the plots of the stories are not records of past events. Rather, the plots of all three stories describe the way to the Knowledge of Necessary Things, the intelligibles. The chronology of Avicenna's writings is also significant. As noted above89, he wrote his stories while being held a prisoner in Faragan. At about this time he was in the middle of the lengthy process of writing the Sifd', and it seems that he had already finished his commentary on Aristotle's Poetics, or at least that this commentary was written at very much the same time90. Conclusion It is now easier to understand Avicenna's insistence on the use of the stories, his repeated attempts to tackle his <<newly discovered>> genre, and his own reference to his qisas. It is also easier to estimate the uniqueness of Avicenna's stories. Unlike the Ismacllls before him, or Ibn Tufayl and Suhrawardi after him, Avicenna intended his stories to be what we may call Aristotelian dramaturgy. A reading of Avicenna's commentary on the Poetics corroborates Corbin's intuition about the importance that should be ascribed to the word qissa. In fact, Corbin came very close to understanding the exact meaning of the qissa. He realized that the <<recital>> a had mimetic role91, but since he was not prepared to see it in Peripatetic



As noted by Dahiyat, pp. 52-55. Note 4.

90 See Gohlman, pp. 46-48, 62; Gardet, "humanisme)>, p. 821-822; Gutas, pp. 140-141. 91 Corbin, p. 43: <"L'ame ne peut la dire qu'a la ire personne, la <reciter>>, comme dans cette figure que la grammaire arabe appelle "ihikdya)> (histoire, mais litteralement mimesis, imitation), oiu le recitant reproduit ... les termes memes dont s'est servi l'interlocuteur ...>. Also Corbin, p. 12: <Ces recits, en substituant une dramaturgie a la cosmologie ...>>.



terms, he remained unaware of the precise dramatic context of the qissa. Corbin's intuition was correct insofar as for Avicenna the genre was inherently connected to its purpose. But for Avicenna the story was not a <<visionaryrecital)>, and did not belong to a mystic, theosophic, pre-HrdqTgenre. For Avicenna, the story was soundly grounded in the Aristotelian tradition as he understood it.
Abbreviationsof frequently quoted works Amin = Ahmad Amin, Iayy b. Yaq,dan li-l-Suhrawardt (Misr, 1952).
Ildhyadt= Ibn Sina, Al-Sifd', Al-Ildhijydt, ed. Ibrahim Madkuir (Cairo, 1960).

Badawl= A. Badawi, AristiutdlisFann al-Si'r, ma'a 1-targamal-carabiyyal-qadfma wa-surzih al-FardbFwa-ibn Sina wa-ibn Rusd (Cairo, 1952). Corbin = Henry Corbin, Avicenneet le re'cit visionnaire:Etudes sur le cycledes recits avicenniens (Paris, 1979). Dahiyat = I. M. Dahiyat, Avicenna's Commentary on the Poetics of Aristotle (Leiden, 1974). Daldlat al-Hd'irin = Moshe ben Maimon, Daldlat al-hd'irdn, ed. Yoel (Jerusalem, 1929). Gardet, Avicenne= L. Gardet, La penseiereligieused'Avicenne (Ibn Sind), (Paris, 1951). Gardet, <humanisme>>= Idem, <L'humanisme greco-arabe: Avicenne>,, Cahiers d'histoire mondiale II (1955), pp. 812-834. Gohlman = William E. Gohlman, ed. and trans., The Life of Ibn Sina (Albany, 1974). Goichon, IHayy= A. -M. Goichon, Le recit de IHayyibn Yaqza-n commente par des textes d'Avicenne (Paris, 1959). Goichon, Lexique = Idem, Lexique de la langue philosophique d'Ibn Sfna (Paris, 1938). Guide = Moses Maimonides, The Guide of the Perplexed, trans. Sh. Pines (Chicago and London, 1963). Gutas = D. Gutas, Avicenna and The Aristotelian Tradition: Introductionto Reading Avicenna's Philosophical Works (Leiden, 1988). Heinrichs = Wolfhardt Heinrichs, Arabische Dichtung und griechische Poetik: Hazim al-Qartag'annisGrundlegungder Poetik mit Hilfe aristotelischerBegriffe (Beirut, 1969). Ibn Ezra = .Hayy Meqiz le'AvrahamIbn Ezra, ed. I. Levin (Tel Aviv, 1983). ben Ibn Tufayl = Ibn Tufayl, IHayy ibn Yaqza-n, ed. Faruiq Sacd (Beirut, 1980). = IHdrdt Ibn Sina, Kitdb al-ildrdt wa'l-tanbihdt - Le livre des theioremes des averet tissements, ed. J. Forget (Leiden, 1892). Lerner and Mahdi = R. Lerner and M. Mahdi, eds., Medieval Political Philosophy: A Sourcebook (Toronto, 1963). Levin = I. Levin, ,The Gazelle and the Birds; On Megillat Ha-Ofer of Rabbi Elijah Ha-Cohen and Treatise On the Birds of Avicenna,,, in Essays in Memory of Dan Pagis, II,Jerusalem Studies in Hebrew Literature, 11 (1988), pp. 577-611 (in Hebrew). Malachi = Z. Mal'achi, "Megilat hacofer of Rabbi Eliahu ha-Kohen, an allegorical maqama from Spain,,, in Z. Malachi, ed., AharonMirskyJubilee Volume: Essays on Jewish Culture (Lod, 1986), pp. 324-341. Mehren = M. A. F. Mehren, Traite'smystiquesd'Abou Ali al-Hosain b. Abdallah b. Sznd ou d'Avicenne (Leiden: Brill, 1889). Pines, ((Philosophic Sources,, = ((The Philosophic Sources of the Guide of the




Perplexed-), in the introduction to his translation of Moses Maimonides' Guideof the Perplexed (Chicago and London, 1963).
Poetics = S. H. Butcher, Aristotle's Theoryof Poetryand Fine Art, with a critical text and translation of the Poetics (London, 1951). et Suhrawardi = Sihabaddln Yahya as-Suhrawardi, Oeuvresme'taphysiques mysti-

perques,Vol. II, ed. Henri Corbin (Tehran and Paris, 1952); Vol. III, Les euvres ed. sanesde Sohrawardi, Seyyed Hossein Nasr, prolegomenes, analyses et commentaires par Henri Corbin (Tehran and Paris, 1970).